


I really am sorry

by Deputychairman



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Handcuffs, M/M, Morning After, Motel room, Paul Gross Birthday Handcuffs Fest, all the fandom tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:51:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deputychairman/pseuds/Deputychairman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray had him pinned and hard and wanting it, and his hands were still cuffed above his head. That wasn’t Ray’s doing, but he was suddenly afraid of how much he liked it, seeing Fraser all helpless and spread out for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I really am sorry

 

 

“I really _am_ sorry, Ray.”

And the thing was he really _did_ look sorry. But sorry for not listening, sorry for doing it anyway, or sorry for getting caught? Made a hell of a difference which one, and Ray couldn’t tell. Sorry he was stuck out here in the middle of Nowhere, Illinois, with no way to get the handcuffs off, that was for damn sure. If Ray was a better person maybe he would have been sorry about that too, but he wasn’t a better person so he wasn’t sorry.

Fraser looked as close to pathetic as Fraser ever got: yeah, it was summer, but his hair was still wet and his clothes were still wet and now he was shivering. The sun was going down and they still seemed to be a long way from anywhere that wasn’t cornfields. Or potato fields or beet fields or whatever the hell kind of fields they were: Ray was from the city, he didn’t know anything about fields. Whatever was growing there they were still fields, and not anything useful like a police station or a highway or a payphone or a house.

Ray could stand up to a lot of Fraser, but cold pathetic Fraser apologising and darting him penitent downcast looks was more than even he could resist. He wasn’t gonna think about the other type of Fraser he couldn’t resist, because Fraser sure looked sorry about that too.

Ray stopped walking. Let out a deep breath and turned to face Fraser.

“Look, it’s okay,” he said, mostly succeeding in sounding like it wasn’t a big deal.

Fraser stopped too. He rubbed at his eyebrow, which made it totally obvious he was still handcuffed because he had to raise both hands to do it and then pulled a face. If there was a way to cure a person of a nervous habit, maybe this was it.

Ray saw him square his shoulders and take a deep breath of his own.

“I realise I ought to have – listened to you, Ray.”

“Yeah, you ought to have,” Ray agreed. “But you didn’t, so let’s just keep going till we find a damn phone, ok?”

But Fraser didn’t move.

“I don’t want you to think I think I know better than you, Ray, but seeing as it’s almost dark and we really don’t know where we are, I wonder if we wouldn’t do better to stop for the night - ” this time he remembered about his hands and nodded towards the horizon rather than pointing.

Ray didn’t have his cell or his badge or his gun or his car keys any more, but he did still have his glasses. When he put them on, he could see what Fraser was seeing – a low dark building in the distance, splash of neon light beside it. And it looked a lot like a motel.

 

*

 

It _was_ a motel. A seriously crappy motel, where Ray couldn’t believe anyone stayed unless they found themselves in exactly him and Fraser’s predicament and it didn’t seem like that would make enough customers to keep the place going. But it was better than a cornfield.

As they trudged across the dark parking lot, Ray shrugged his jacket off and draped it over Fraser’s cuffed hands to hide them.

When Fraser looked at him in surprise, he said,

“If you wanna explain what happened, knock yourself out. I just want a room and a phone.”

Fraser stood there for a second thinking about that, then he hurried to catch up to Ray with the jacket carefully in place.

 

 

The old guy in reception had food on his shirt, and he didn’t believe Ray was a cop.

“You don’t look like a cop,” he wheezed. He nodded at Fraser. “He don’t look like a cop neither.”

Ok, so yeah, Ray could give him that. Jeans, t-shirt, and experimental hair didn’t exactly scream law-enforcement. That was kinda the point, with undercover. Of course, now he was undercover as a cop, so if he’d ever foreseen something this dumb happening, maybe he would have changed the look. And Fraser – usually you could count on Fraser to look so neat and starched and buttoned up he couldn’t be anything _but_ a cop. But it turned out that get him out of uniform and into handcuffs and mess up his hair a bit, and Fraser looked like fucking _jailbait_. Ray had been noticing that for hours now, and it looked like the old guy had noticed too.

Ray gritted his teeth.

“Well, I am a cop. So’s he.”

The old guy shook his head. “I need to see a badge,” he said.

“Yeah well, I don’t got the badge on me,” Ray snarled.

“Then I ain’t letting you use the phone. Room’s fifty bucks, you want it or not?”

Before Ray could say anything they would later regret about what he could do with his room and his fifty bucks, Fraser stepped forward.

“Yes, please,” he said firmly. Under Ray’s jacket, the handcuffs clinked.

The old guy looked at Fraser and then he looked at Ray, and then finally he held out a key.

“Number 35. Last room on the right. Ain’t no one else out there for you to disturb.”

Ray figured it would only make things worse if he shoved Fraser out the door, so he just thought it really hard instead.

 

 

Of course there was only one bed. A few hours ago, Ray might have had high hopes for a one-bed motel room with Fraser and no one nearby to disturb, but clearly Fraser had had second thoughts about all that. This was _work_ , it wasn’t the time to start thinking about what he’d done wrong, but Ray had thought it’d take longer than one night for him to screw it up. Which just went to show he should never stop lowering his expectations.

Fraser hung Ray’s jacket carefully on the coathook by the door and sank down onto the bed. His shoulders were uncharacteristically slumped and he looked very young and uncertain all of a sudden. There wasn’t anywhere else to sit so Ray just stood there, looking at him across four feet of nasty carpet.

Eventually Fraser sat up straight again like it took a real effort, and looked up at Ray.

“Ray, I _am_ sorry,” he repeated.

Ray waved his apology off. He really didn’t need to hear this – everyone knew how this part went.

“Yeah, I know, you said. Don’t worry about it. It was a mistake, forget it.”

“No! Not – about that. That wasn’t a mistake. I mean about today. My behaviour today.”

“Right,” Ray said stupidly. The other thing, they didn’t need to talk about. But Fraser’s dumbass decisions today – yeah, ok, he was taking apologies for those.

“I’m afraid I may have been overcompensating. For my – feelings. About you,” Fraser went on. His gaze was fixed in the middle distance over Ray’s shoulder.

“Overcompensating,” Ray repeated. He felt dumb, just standing there watching Fraser. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He crossed his arms then uncrossed them again and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Fraser nodded miserably.

“Last night was – it was – oh Ray, I’m in over my head. I’m not _good_ at this. I thought, if I just try to compartmentalise – to carry on at work as if nothing had changed, then maybe…”

“What? I don’t know what any of that means, Frase. I was right and you wouldn’t listen to me, is that what compartmentalise means?”

Fraser gave a bitter little smile.

“Yes, it seems like a pretty good definition, doesn’t it? I was trying to do what I would have done if you hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t ever met you - ”

“Yeah, thanks, you’re a great partner too.” He hadn’t thought hearing Fraser say sorry would hurt this much. Showed how little _he_ knew.

“Ray,” Fraser said helplessly. “I mean I was wrong. I knew I was wrong. But I’m - ” finally he met Ray’s eyes and said, fast, “I’m in love with you, Ray, and I never expected anything to come of it, but last night – after last night - ”

Well that tore it. Ray closed the gap between them in one angry stride and gave Fraser a hard _push_. Without his hands to steady him he went straight down, flat on his back on the bed, and just lay there breathlessly looking up at whatever Ray was going to do next.

Ray didn’t know what he was going to do next. His heart was thumping so hard it was ringing in his ears, he couldn’t _think_. All he knew was that closer was good right now. If they had to have this conversation from opposite sides of the room, it was all over. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. Fraser’s instincts hadn’t done too good today, so it was time to give Ray’s a turn.

He sat down none too gently on Fraser’s hips and leaned over him, one hand either side of his face.

“This is what you do when you’re in love with someone?” Maybe he didn’t mean it to sound so threatening, but then maybe he did. As soon as he had it worked out, Fraser would be the first to know.

“Apparently so,” Fraser licked his lips. His cuffed hands were just there, in the middle of his chest, like he was fending Ray off. But he wasn’t fending him off: his fingers were relaxed and his eyes were wide and very very blue, and Ray could feel him getting hard.

“Fraser,” he said.

“Yes,” said Fraser. “I’m sorry, Ray.”

Ray kissed him then, hard and still angry but he could feel the angry going away. It was turning into something else, something more about the good ways their bodies fitted together than the violence he’d felt simmering under his skin a minute ago.

“Fraser,” he said again. “You’re _such_ a – Jesus. I don’t know what you are.” Ray stared down at him for a second, trying to get it straight in his head. “I’m in love with you too, you know that, don’t you?”

“No, I – no, I didn’t,” Fraser said. He was still so _serious_ , like it was all tearing him apart.

Ray took hold of his wrists and pushed his hands out of the way up over his head, and Fraser gave a little gasp. Went limp and pliant and just _let_ him.

“Yeah, well now you do,” said Ray. Fraser nodded just a tiny bit, and spread his legs.

“Now I do,” he echoed. He was breathing hard, and Ray kissed him again, deep and hot and messy. Fraser made a sound almost like a sob into Ray’s mouth, and opened up to it like he’d been waiting all his life for someone to kiss him like that. So Ray carried on kissing him because they were finally getting somewhere here, this wasn’t _compartmentalised_ , it was wild and dirty and knocking the walls down. It was Ray’s fingers digging into Fraser’s wrists and Fraser rocking up against him, creating a maddening friction that was driving him out of his mind because it wasn’t _enough_ –

 

Ray sat up and Fraser made a wordless sound of protest. Ray had him pinned and hard and wanting it, and his hands were still cuffed above his head. That wasn’t Ray’s doing, but he was suddenly afraid of how much he liked it, seeing Fraser all helpless and spread out for him.

“Seriously, Frase – like this? You cool with this?” he managed to ask. Because he was a good person, he _was_ , and even if Fraser deserved it, he wasn’t going to –

“Yes, Ray – please, anything,” Fraser’s voice was hoarse, and his hips were still moving under Ray’s.

Ray was so hard he couldn’t think straight – should he do this? If today had been a weird morning after, what the hell would it be like _tomorrow_ if they did it while Fraser was still in handcuffs? He was just frozen there, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t make himself pull away and get up, that was impossible. Fraser had some kind of magnetic pull over him, he was trapped here, holding Fraser down when he should be letting go, desperate for it when he should be trying not to want it at all.

But Fraser didn’t seem to have any doubts. Fraser wanted it _yesterday_.

“Ray, _please_ , I like it, you have to keep going – please, I - ” oh God Fraser was begging him. Benton Fraser was begging him to keep going, and all Ray’s better judgement went right out the window.

He’d already fucked his partner; there was no going back anyway. Ray was in love with Fraser and Fraser said he was in love with Ray – that was the real problem here. Doing it like this was _nothing_ in comparison.

So Ray tightened his grip and smothered Fraser’s whimper with a hard kiss, and Fraser lay there and took it. He didn’t know until right this minute that he wanted to kiss Fraser like that, but Jesus, did he ever know it now.

Fraser probably lost some buttons as Ray got his shirt open, but the old guy at reception already knew what was going down so really, what did it matter if Fraser walked out in the morning looking like he put up a fight? The important thing was he _wasn’t_ putting up a fight: he was letting Ray do everything he wanted. Maybe this was how Fraser apologised. It wasn’t like Ray’d ever seen it before, so how the hell would he know?

He kept licking his lips, and when Ray made himself just take a fucking _second_ here, just to think about what the fuck they were _doing_ , in a fucking _motel room_ , Fraser just panted up at him and bit his lip and kind of - shimmied under him. And that was it, there was no more thinking happening here tonight. He found he was opening his jeans and moving up the bed without telling his body that was what they were doing. He was just...doing it: letting go of Fraser’s wrists - and Fraser stayed where Ray had put him - gripping the back of Fraser’s head and angling his cock down to that mouth - Fraser’s smart, infuriating, pretty mouth --and Fraser opened for him like all he’d ever wanted was to be pinned to a bed and made to suck Ray’s cock. Ray had a hand in Fraser’s hair but he wasn’t pulling him, he was _supporting_ him, holding him where he wanted to be; Fraser was leaning up for it, wanting it. Fraser gave a low moan deep in his throat; his eyes fell closed and it was so good, so hot and tight and wet, the slip slide of his cock in and out of Fraser’s mouth, and Fraser looked like he was getting off on it so hard that Ray didn’t know what to do when he realised he was going to come any second now. You didn’t just come down someone’s throat when they couldn’t even pull away, but shooting all over his face would be even worse, and in the heartbeat it took him to consider his options it was already too late: Fraser had opened his eyes to look up at him, and Ray was coming. Fraser just took it, and took it, and then he choked a little and Ray managed to let go of his hair but Fraser still didn’t pull away.

So Ray had to, because maybe this was how Fraser apologised but it wasn’t how Ray accepted an apology. He pulled away and Fraser took a great gasping breath and coughed and there was come on his lips and Ray kissed him, again, and tasted himself. Kissed him gently, sweetly, and Fraser moaned into his mouth and rocked against him, looking for contact.

 

Fraser was still tense and hard beneath him, as if sucking Ray off had only turned him on more. His hands finally came up from where Ray had pressed them into the mattress to rest gently at the back of Ray’s neck.

“Oh God, Ray, please, will you - I need - ” he said against Ray’s mouth, and yeah, yeah of course - _this_ would be how you accepted an apology.

So Ray slid down the bed, kissing Fraser’s chest and belly and unbuttoning his jeans; wrapping his hand around his erection and when he closed his mouth around Fraser’s cock Fraser gasped and writhed and thrust _up_ like he just couldn’t help it. His hands clenched lightly in Ray’s hair and Ray could feel the cool metal of the handcuffs on the back of his neck. He almost wanted Fraser to grab hold of him and go for it, make things even, but maybe Fraser wasn’t done apologising because he was trying to keep still. He was letting Ray set the pace and if he was holding on it was because he needed something to hold on to, not because he was trying to call the shots.

He let Ray take charge, sucking him in slow and deep, feeling Fraser tremble as he hollowed his cheeks. Fraser made a choked off little sound when Ray used his tongue, and Ray heard him panting fast and shallow when he licked around the head. The hot length of him was so hard in Ray’s mouth, the beautiful broken noises he was making were so desperate, so close to the edge, and Ray couldn’t get enough of it, seeing Fraser like this, lost in it and letting Ray do just what he liked to him.

It didn’t last long. Ray could tell it wouldn’t. After what felt like just seconds Fraser’s hands in Ray’s hair tightened and he tried to pull Ray off. But Fraser had swallowed like he loved it when _he_ apologised. Ray had a feeling like that was something he ought to be apologising right back for, and the only way he could think of was to carry on sucking Fraser’s cock until he gave a deep sob of pleasure and came in Ray’s mouth.

 

*

 

Ray stayed right where he was until Fraser had stopped shaking with it. Waited a minute for him to get his breath back too.

Then he muttered, “Sorry, Frase - I shouldn’t - I didn’t mean to - ”

“Don’t,” Fraser said softly. His hands were still on Ray’s shoulders. Ray didn’t look up from where his face was hidden in Fraser’s belly, but he was pretty sure Fraser’s eyes were closed. “I wanted it. I wanted you. I’ve wanted you for so long - ”

Ray thought he couldn’t move and was sure he didn’t want to, but it turned out he was wrong about that. He could move up to lie next to Fraser, and he wanted to kiss him. Fraser gave a little moan against his lips and pulled him close, pressing them together along the length of their bodies.

“Not like that,” Ray said.

“Yeah, like that, like _anything_ , Ray.”

Ray kissed him again, drunk on the soft slide of their mouths together, Fraser there to touch. “So we’re really doing this thing, huh? You really wanna - ?”

Fraser breathed, “Yes I do, Ray.”

 

Fraser’s cuffed hands were still trapped between them, and with his shirt open and his jeans undone he looked like one of those fantasies you don’t tell anybody about. Fraser was gazing at him like he hung the moon and the stars, and Fraser said he loved him. He didn’t have the key to the handcuffs and he didn’t look like a cop and he didn’t know how to accept an apology, but Fraser wanted him anyway. That had to count for something.

Of course there would be fall out, there was always fall out, but Fraser said he loved him and Ray would probably never be able to refuse him anything ever again, not even if it killed him. And Fraser, maybe he _should_ refuse Ray some things, like fucking him with handcuffs on in a motel room for starters.

But they could work on that.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well hi there everyone, this is my id! Take a look at it. This is what it looks like. 
> 
> Thank or blame Catladyinwaiting for pushing me to write the sex scene in full - I was just going for a tasteful fade to black this time, I didn't think I COULD write Fraser in handcuffs sex without causing myself a terrible hormonal injury. But then I also didn't think I would ever lead the Internet in celebrating Paul Gross in handcuffs, and whaddaya know! I could! I hope you're all enjoying his birthday Handcuffs Fest as much as I am, because I am enjoying it A LOT. I'm sure you'll all join me in 99% fervent hope that Paul Gross never Googles himself, and 1% sort of thinking he probably does and suspecting he might be rather pleased. But we will never know for sure, and that, friends of the Internet, is as it should be.


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